


The Key

by Stivvy



Series: Scitlets [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Feels, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, Sciles, Skittles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-24
Updated: 2016-02-24
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:52:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6001612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stivvy/pseuds/Stivvy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott and Stiles know exactly how to comfort one another when things are at their worst.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Key

**Author's Note:**

> written for quicklikelight and queerlyalex's happy headcanon week on tumblr  
> (apparently this is my version of happy)  
> feedback is always appreciated!

For the first few weeks after the Nogitsune was defeated Stiles had a terrible time getting warm. He would shiver more often than he was still, and would unconsciously lean towards whatever body was closest to soak up any heat that he could. Every time Scott heard teeth chattering, or felt the subtle rise in tension in his best friend’s skin it would register like a color coded alarm, his body reacting instinctively to balance the chill that was starting to feel like a permanent cage around Stiles. Sometimes Scott would wake up from a deep sleep at a totally abnormal hour with an uneasy weight on his chest, and the only way he could settle back down was to text Stiles and wait for a reply, his fingers gripping the flimsy case a bit too tightly until the screen lit up and he could finally exhale his fears into his sweat soaked sheets and try to sleep again.

Then there was one night where the screen never lit back up. Scott only realized as he felt the phone hit his chin, that his eyes had been closing, his elbows had dropped because he was losing all feeling in his arms, and he was lying in his bed in the dark still awake and Stiles had not answered his text. Scott blinked his eyes and sat up to look at the phone, starting to worry and running through every possibility- Stiles left his phone on silent by accident, he had the volume turned down for some reason, he’s finally getting deep enough sleep that he didn’t hear the text…but that ache in his chest was still there. It wasn’t right, and Scott couldn’t get his head straight until he knew that Stiles was okay- he was starting to feel a chill under his skin that hadn’t been there before.

That’s how he found himself hovering shakily at stiles’ open windowsill, sliding the glass as quietly as possible until he could slip inside stealthy as a shadow (forgive him) and softly pad over to the bed, heart thumping abnormally loudly even for his werewolf ears. And that’s when he knew he had overreacted. He felt a foreign sense of calm wash over him when he looked at the drooling face snoring breathily into the Spiderman pillowcase (must have been laundry day), and let out the tight breath he had been holding since he climbed up the broken trellis moments earlier. Stiles was asleep. He was _asleep_ , and Scott could feel his best friend’s heartbeat echo through his own chest. The smile never left his lips as he quietly shucked his shoes and tiptoed over to the other side of the bed, lifting the comforter to slide in beside stiles and wrap himself around the other boy until there wasn’t an inch between their skin. Stiles’ body, already cradled in on itself, melted gently into Scott’s, filling in the space and knowing exactly where to fit. They had always fit.

There wasn’t even a split second of surprise when the cool breeze and daylight streaming from the open window woke them early, just a sweet sigh of good morning as Stiles squeezed the hand tucked under his shirt just below his rib cage. Scott was still smiling. After that stiles didn’t shiver as much, and after a little while longer Scott almost completely forgot about the silent weight on his chest. Until a ghost from their past decided to make it his mission in life to destroy theirs.

In the days that felt like years, the moments that painfully stretched to what seemed like infinity, Scott knew for the first time what it felt like to not know his best friend. To not feel every emotion coursing in his veins and every thought before it passed his lips. He knew what it felt like to not hear Stiles’ pulse racing as he ranted about his next theory, or the chill of excitement when he arrived at an unexpected epiphany. Scott knew, and it felt like the worst kind of loneliness. The kind he’d only read about in the epic sagas, the ones where the hero only emerges intact after every possible obstacle has been thrown his way. He hated those stories- they never seemed fair. Scott didn’t know if anything would ever be the same after that. Even when they were talking again. Even when he looked into his best friend’s eyes and saw the familiar glimmer of hope, of conspiracy, of understanding, of some kind of _remorse_ …Even then he felt like he would never be sure of anything in his life because the two of them? That was the one thing he had always been sure of. And that surety had been all but completely shattered in a matter of weeks.

It was another chilly night, but Scott left his window open a crack to feel the fresh air on his cheeks as he tried to drift off. Since coming back to life Scott felt a much stronger connection to his surroundings at all times. The air, the sounds, the sensation of every texture on his skin, all of it made him feel the thrum of life, soothing his senses and quieting his mind. He fell asleep to the rushing sounds of the wind, and the gently slowing beat of his own heart. So when his eyes fluttered open and the room was still dark, Scott was a bit startled. He hadn’t woken up in the middle of the night since…he couldn’t remember…in ages, his body sinking into the mattress every night like a stone and rising just as slowly. But he could hear another heartbeat close to his ears. As he started to register that he was truly awake, Scott realized that he wasn’t dreaming. There was someone there. Next to him, or rather, all over him, in his bed. There were arms wrapped around his chest, fingers locked together over his left arm, a head tucked into the base of his neck and a cold nose pressing lightly against the sensitive skin just below his hairline. The tiny puffs of air from Stiles’ mouth were raising goosebumps all over his body, and Scott could feel a deep, rumbling snore work its way through both of their chests. He couldn’t help the satisfying groan that slipped through his lips when he felt his body relax back into the other boy’s, eliminating the space that had so brutally shoved its way between them in the weeks past. It felt like the most natural position for his body, like the first and only way he should ever feel, like he had always known but never really knew it before this moment.

Only mildly regretfully, Scott shifted himself so that he could face Stiles, keeping his friend’s arms wrapped around him and tangling their legs together so that he could run his fingers through the mess of Stiles’ hair and lean their foreheads together on the pillow beneath them. When, seconds later, Stiles’ eyes opened groggily, Scott let loose the grin he had been holding back and waited patiently for the other boy to explain himself. “Umm….hey?” Stiles offered in a raspy whisper. “Hey,” Scott responded softly, his fingers still twisting the hair between their tips into gentle waves. They looked at each other in a stretched out silence after that, hands trailing up and down each other’s backs as if spelling out a secret conversation only their bodies understood (it was) until they fell asleep again. When they woke up with the dawn neither boy felt the early morning chill, still enveloped together and breathing warmth into each other’s bones. Scott broke the silence first as he nuzzled his face into his best friend’s neck.

“So…i know i left the window open…but…how’d you get in here last night?” The look on stiles’ face as he pulled back from Scott to look him in the eye was a mixture of such shock and disdain that Scott almost laughed in relief. It seemed like forever since he had seen that look directed at him.

“Dude, are you serious?” When Scott lifted his eyebrows skeptically and grinned, Stiles sighed with an affected display of sarcastically divine patience and rolled his friend over, spooning him tightly as he burrowed his face into the cradle of Scott’s neck and shoulder.

“Don’t you even know me anymore at all?” He had meant for it to sound flippant, but when Scott’s body tensed under his own Stiles felt the shiver run down his spine at the same time. It was too soon. He backtracked.

“I mean, uh….”

“Stiles, it’s okay,” Scott whispered from where he couldn’t see, “I know what you mean.”

“I know. I know you do,” he paused, “Scott? I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything.”

And Scott could hear it with his whole body. He felt the chill that had crept in evaporate in an instant with the words he didn’t even know he needed to hear. He could feel the air settle back into the fragile peace the night had so carefully and quietly built, the jagged edges they had slowly sanded back down fitting together smoothly together once again. It felt right. He smiled again and let it seep into his voice.

“I know. And I knew the answer before I even asked the question.”

“You asked a question?” Stiles was peppering little kisses on his shoulder, and this time Scott let himself laugh. He couldn’t remember having ever felt so good.

“Yeah buddy, I did,” he finally sighed, “how’d you get in? But I know. It was a stupid question.”

“Yeah Scotty, real stupid,” Stiles chuckled, squeezing him firmly and twining their fingers together at Scott’s chest.

Then, in a tone full of the old confidence Scott had so desperately missed, Stiles added softly, “You’re my home, Scott. I’ll always come home. And I’ll always have the key.”


End file.
